Asma Khan

Asma Khan: “Food is a language of love”

Short Profile

Name: Asma Khan
DOB: July 1969
Place of birth: Kolkata, India
Occupation: Chef, restaurateur

Ms. Khan, when do you feel most empowered as a chef?

I feel at my best, at my strongest when I’m cooking — but when I’m not in the kitchen of my restaurant, Darjeeling Express! I feel most empowered when I’m cooking at home, when I’m listening to Sufi music, I am barefoot, I go into the zone, I’m immersed in the music, and I cook without thinking. And that’s the most beautiful, beautiful space for me.

When did food become a source of strength and joy for you in that way?

When I first moved to Cambridge 30 years ago, I was very homesick, not only for the food but also for my family. You know, we’ve all forgotten that 30 years ago, there was no way to communicate the way that you and I speaking now, there were no mobile phones, computers, there was no cheap travel. The sense of isolation and being uprooted was acute. So I decided to learn to cook, and I came to food with a broken heart, missing home and missing family and missing everything. I cooked to heal. I cooked to go home. In some ways, I cooked to stay alive. I understood that I couldn’t change a lot of things around me, but when I cooked and was surrounded by the aromas of my kitchen, I felt — I still get emotional about this — I felt the presence of my mother. I cooked with the kind of passion and love that I was fed in.

“Even before I started cooking myself, I understood that food is a language of love. And when I learned to cook, it stayed the same: I knew I wanted to feed people, to nourish them.”

It sounds like cooking became a kind of self-care and self-love for you.

Yes, it was, and it always should be. You should show respect for ingredients, because the most expensive ingredient that you put into a dish is your time. Every ingredient has a value; your sensibilities, your tasting the dish and saying, “I’m going to put a touch of lemon juice in there, a bit of salt there.” Cooking is the most personal. And my fingerprints are unique. When I cook a dish it is unique. Even before I started cooking myself, I understood that food is a language of love. And when I learned to cook, it stayed the same: I knew I wanted to feed people, to nourish them. I had no idea how I was going to do it! I started in my own house as a supper club. I was 45 at the time and everyone laughed at me when I went to the bank to borrow money. People would say, “What a lovely hobby Mrs. Khan, call us to your house for tea.” But I persevered because I had this dream to feed people because I understood how it healed me. I wanted to embrace them through my food, because I understood what it was like not to have that.

That feeling of being underestimated continued into your professional career, right? Not only were you an immigrant woman starting up a restaurant, but you were also not classically-trained as a chef, you didn’t have any kind of network in the industry…

I was the outsider, I was on the fringe of hospitality. I still am. I am not a member of the boys club which is hospitality today, where women can come in as guests, but are not true members. This idea of a boys’ network is perhaps less today but it is still very deeply entrenched in food culture and hospitality in this country. Everybody is everyone’s mate. Back then, where would I have met some male mentor who would have helped me? I was an immigrant, I’m a Muslim, I was in my forties, I had kids. I’m not going to hang out in pubs or to a football match. Without this network, it’s a big problem for for immigrants, for people who come into a country and start fresh. You start without roots, and that is the hardest bit. This is a race, and I started from the back, and unlike a white man or a white woman, my race has hurdles. I have to go through fire to prove myself. But I won! I won despite the hurdles, and I won despite the cultural baggage that I chose to carry with me.

And you’ve always chosen to be vocal about these struggles, even if it hurt your public image.

That’s right, I did not try to silence this cultural conversation or the need to talk about politics and food and justice and equality of women and gender issues. I didn’t leave that burden behind so that I became more acceptable or so that it was easier for me to get into spaces. I am political. I’m powerful, I’m successful, but I will not put down those attributes that I think are very important. I will speak up. I’m unafraid, and if I fail because I spoke up for the poor and the marginalized, I don’t mind. It is much more important for me to be able to understand that there is huge disparity in the way men and women are treated in kitchens. There is often zero empathy to women in kitchens. I don’t think that makes you a great leader. So for me, I would always choose the path of being a rebel, a disruptor — and not a successful entrepreneur.

So when was the first time that you felt seen as a chef in this industry?

I don’t know. Sometimes I think I still am not for one reason: often I get asked to industry things, and I look at the people they’ve already invited, and there’s a lot of tokenism. This doesn’t make me feel seen, this makes me feel even more upset, because I understand they’re ticking a box. So I don’t always feel seen but I don’t mind because I’m making an impact on my own.

Apparently your mission as a chef is to make all women feel seen and understood, I guess in a way that you weren’t — you have several charitable organizations for women, plus you’ve famously hired an all-female staff of immigrant cooks.

Absolutely, but I still have a long way to go. I think sometimes it feels like it will be easy to just pass the baton on to the next person, but we need to do more to put the next generation on a path where they see less hurdles, where they don’t need to go through the kind of challenges that I went through, and it starts with valuing the team I work with.[/a]
“We’re successful because everybody feels that Darjeeling Express is their own. Everybody feels that this is their project. They feel a sense of pride and ownership. It’s magical.”

It’s a mission that involves really putting your ego aside, which I think is a rarity in the food world.

Yes, I mean, when I filmed for Chef’s Table at Netflix, I was the only chef who showed my team. None of the other chefs in all those series, none of them showed their team. They showed their partner or their business partner, but they didn’t show their team. But I know that the day that your kitchen porter doesn’t come in to wash your plates, you have to shut your restaurant. You can’t even serve. I’m not sure why so many chefs see themselves as Van Gogh, this tortured genius who’s creating this masterpiece of a restaurant on their own. That is just untrue. If you go into a restaurant, it’s unlikely you’re even going to see this crazy creative genius of a chef. In my restaurant, when you come, I’m serving you! We are united as a team.

Is it true that you also get paid the same as the other cooks in your kitchen?

It is true, because we need to have a level playing field. I know this cannot happen everywhere, but because of the nature of how our team started as a collective, it’s possible for us. The core ethos of our restaurant is equality, treating everybody equal. Of course, some are more powerful than the others, and we recognize that but we treat everybody as if they are as important. And I think that this is very important because when things go wrong, you need everybody to be rowing in the same direction, otherwise you are in trouble.

Does that mean you’re also working together on the menu, or is that something that remains your singular vision?

Oh, no, I discuss it all with the team. They all have their opinions. In the end, I have the final vote when it comes to what goes on the menu, but I would never impose anything on them, because they’re the ones who are doing it. So if this particular dish is very important for me, and I think it’s a great dish to have, but everybody else thinks is a really bad idea, then I better turn up and cook it every day. You cannot make your team do something that they don’t believe in and they’re not invested in. We’re successful because everybody feels that Darjeeling Express is their own. Everybody feels that this is their project. They feel a sense of pride and ownership. It’s magical, because even though some days are tough, some days things go wrong, we all come out of it smiling. Try it! Try being kind, try to be equal, try to empower people, and watch the transformation in your business. Everybody thinks that you have to be ruthless. But you can be empathetic, you can be generous, you can be a team leader, and you can be extremely successful. I am living proof.